Edna Mode x Stratogale
by Kirin Hayune
Summary: Shredded maroon capes, and a hidden past,


Stratogale..

Stratogale..?

It was the year 1953.

Edna vaguely remembered the day the lanky, raven haired girl had come to her, looking for a supersuit. Before she'd already rung the bell Edna could see seven pigeons, perched perfectly on her shoulders and arms. It had been the Golden Age of the Supers, there were many, but Stratogale, had drawn her the moment they'd met.

This girl really was something- she was, a dreamer. "Always with your head in the clouds, Darling." Edna had become fond of saying, as she sketched out a vague design- a carmine and pale yellow suit fitted perfectly to the lean curves, maroon cape trailing behind her as what the designer would've called "A glorious streak of death"- that, had been foreshadowing on her part.

It was something she couldn't read. Something, out of the blue, unexpected, a wrecking ball, because Edna Mode, was never wrong. She knew. She knew what lay ahead, she knew what the Supers would face, she had known their powers before they'd met and she'd known how to build suits to their very needs.

Yet, she didn't know about Stratogale.

That girl really was something.

Edna began to make small changes, the way she'd take the longer route and pass by the zoo to see Stratogale sitting in the aviary. The way she'd delight when Stratogale dropped past each time, to say hello, or that her super suit needed mending, or simply, to chat about birds and the future of feathers in fashion. _They grew close. _

_Yes, they did, and for once Edna mode felt out of control. Lost, dizzying, the way she'd laughed when saying- "We can't sit side by side at Elastigirl's and Mr Incredible's marriage! Everyone will know, Edna, I'll just sit behind you." _

"Gale" she called her, and there were days Edna sat alone, focusing all her energy on seeing the future of her beloved Gale.

But she couldn't. Why she couldn't, Edna didn't know. She couldn't see it, couldn't sense it, and yet still nothing could've prevented the blow on the day she'd gotten the news.

_April 23rd, 1957. _

_Edna leans back in the plush red chair, seemingly too big for her, and turns on the news. In her hand perches a small cup of tea, and as the television loads she perks up at the now familiar words, "stratogale". Stratogale, her Gale. Who had she saved now? Edna wanted to be proud. _

_It hadn't been a piece of good news, such, "Stratogale saves the day, stops plane from crash landing!", but it had been a death announcement, kind of, a mix of both- she did stop the plane, but she'd been sucked into a turbine in the process. _

"_A glorious streak of death" _

_The teacup trembles and crashes to the ground, splintering, the shards spread over the marble grey floor. Edna doesn't flinch. She freezes, the words of the television presenter seems to blur around her, her gaze, travels to the newly designed supersuit on the custom mannequin. _

_The supersuit with the Maroon cape. _

She'd been there at the funeral for her Gale, sitting in the back row of the little church. The silken black dress sweeps her ankles and a netted black veil, cleverly positioned to hide the puffy, red eyes and clear lack of sleep.

Her hands shook just a little as she fetched the sketchbook from her bag, and one by one, flipping through the designs, started ripping all the ideas out, the furious, pain hushed whispering of "no capes, no capes," over and over again, under her breath, and the remaining graphite stained paper bears faint tear marks.  
It was her fault, all her fault. Gale had been sixteen- a highschool student. Sucked into a turbine, sliced to nothing but minces of flesh and bone by the unforgiving blades of the plane she'd saved, sliced to the point that she knew, the casket in front of them was empty.

They had no body to bury. All that laid inside was the folded supersuit of Stratogale, all new and freshly made, with one exception- the cape had been shorn off in one of Edna's late night fits of rage, torn to shreds, thin, purple fabric strips twined between fingers and sobs.

Maybe, just maybe, if you'd overheard her telling Robert "I never look back, darling,"- you might've heard a small tinge of sadness, reminiscent of a certain Gale she'd once loved.


End file.
